was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)

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Transcriber's Note: The author was inconsistent in the
use of single quotes in contracted words. All have
been retained as in the original.
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THE TINTED VENUS
A Farcical Romance

BY

F. ANSTEY

AUTHOR OF
"THE GIANT'S ROBE," "VICE VERSĀ," ETC.

ILLUSTRATED BY BERNARD PARTRIDGE

NEW YORK AND LONDON
HARPER AND BROTHERS
1898

"To you,
Free and ingenious spirits, he doth now
In me, present his service, with his vow
He hath done his best; and, though he cannot glory
In his invention (this work being a story
Of reverend antiquity), he doth hope
In the proportion of it, and the scope,
You may observe some pieces drawn like one
Of a steadfast hand; and with the whiter stone
To be marked in your fair censures. More than this
I am forbid to promise."

MASSINGER.

CONTENTS.

PAGE

I. IN PURSUIT OF PLEASURE 3

II. PLEASURE IN PURSUIT 27

III. A DISTINGUISHED STRANGER 43

IV. FROM BAD TO WORSE 55

V. AN EXPERIMENT 77

VI. TWO ARE COMPANY 93

VII. A FURTHER PREDICAMENT 109

VIII. BETWEEN THE DEVIL AND THE DEEP SEA 127

IX. AT LAST! 151

X. DAMOCLES DINES OUT 169

XI. DENOUNCED 189

XII. AN APPEAL 207

XIII. THE LAST STRAW 227

XIV. THE THIRTEENTH TRUMP 241

XV. THE ODD TRICK 263

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE

"THERE," HE SAID TRIUMPHANTLY, "IT MIGHT HAVE
BEEN MADE FOR HER!" 25

"ANSWER ME," HE SAID ROUGHLY; "IS THIS SOME LARK
OF YOURS?" 32

"DID YOU WANT TO SEE ME ON--ON BUSINESS, MUM?" 47

"WHAT WOULD BE DONE TO HIM?" ASKED THE HAIRDRESSER,
WITH A QUITE UNPLEASANT INTERNAL
SENSATION 67

"KEEP OFF! TELL HER TO DROP IT, TWEDDLE!" 86

"IT IS A MISERABLE THING," HE WAS THINKING, "FOR
A MAN ... TO HAVE A FEMALE STATUE TROTTING
AFTER HIM LIKE A GREAT DORG" 104

SHE WAS STANDING BEFORE THE LOW CHIMNEY-GLASS,
REGARDING HERSELF INTENTLY 119

"FOR 'ARF A PINT I'D KNOCK YOUR BLOOMIN' 'ED IN!" 140

"WHY DID YOU NOT KNEEL TO ME BEFORE?" 161

SHE STRUCK A NAMELESS FEAR INTO LEANDER'S SOUL 177

HER HANDS WERE UNSTEADY WITH PASSION AS SHE TIED
HER BONNET-STRINGS 199

LEANDER WENT DOWN ON ALL FOURS ON THE HEARTH-RUG 220

"STOP WHERE YOU ARE!... FOR MERCY'S SAKE, DON'T COME IN!" 238

"LEANDER!" SHE CRIED, ... "I DON'T BELIEVE SHE
CAN DO IT!" 255

HE THREW HIMSELF DOWN BY HER CHAIR, AND DREW
DOWN THE HANDS IN WHICH SHE HAD HIDDEN HER
FACE 276

IN PURSUIT OF PLEASURE

I.

"Ther hopped Hawkyn,
Ther daunsed Dawkyn,
Ther trumped Tomkyn...."

_The Tournament of Tottenham._

In Southampton Row, Bloomsbury, there is a small alley or passage
leading into Queen Square, and rendered inaccessible to all but foot
passengers by some iron posts. The shops in this passage are of a
subdued exterior, and are overshadowed by a dingy old edifice dedicated
to St. George the Martyr, which seems to have begun its existence as a
rather handsome chapel, and to have improved itself, by a sort of
evolution, into a singularly ugly church.

Into this alley, one Saturday afternoon late in October, came a short
stout young man, with sandy hair, and a perpetual grin denoting
anticipation rather than enjoyment. Opposite the church he stopped at a
hairdresser's shop, which bore the name of Tweddle. The display in the
window was chastely severe; the conventional half-lady revolving slowly
in fatuous self-satisfaction, and the gentleman bearing a piebald beard
with waxen resignation, were not to be found in this shop-front, which
exhibited nothing but a small pile of toilet remedies and a few lengths
of hair of graduated tints. It was doubtful, perhaps, whether such
self-restraint on the part of its proprietor was the result of a
distaste for empty show, or a conviction that the neighbourhood did not
expect it.

Inside the shop there was nobody but a small boy, corking and labelling
bottles; but before he could answer any question as to the whereabouts
of his employer, that artist made his appearance. Leander Tweddle was
about thirty, of middle height, with a luxuriant head of brown hair, and
carefully-trimmed whiskers that curled round towards his upper lip,
where they spent themselves in a faint moustache. His eyes were rather
small, and his nose had a decided upward tendency; but, with his
pink-and-white complexion and compact well-made figure, he was far from
ill-looking, though he thought himself even farther.

"Well, Jauncy," he said, after the first greetings, "so you haven't
forgot our appointment?"

"Why, no," explained his friend; "but I never thought I should get away
in time to keep it. We've been in court all the morning with motions and
short causes, and the old Vice sat on till past three; and when we did
get back to chambers, Splitter kep' me there discussing an opinion of
his I couldn't agree with, and I was ever so long before I got him to
alter it my way."

For he was clerk to a barrister in good practice, and it was Jauncy's
pride to discover an occasional verbal slip in some of his employer's
more hastily written opinions on cases, and suggest improvements.

"Well, James," said the hairdresser, "I don't know that I could have got
away myself any earlier. I've been so absorbed in the laborrit'ry, what
with three rejuvenators and an elixir all on the simmer together, I
almost gave way under the strain of it; but they're set to cool now, and
I'm ready to go as soon as you please."

"Now," said Jauncy, briskly, as they left the shop together, "if we're
to get up to Rosherwich Gardens to-night, we mustn't dawdle."

"I just want to look in here a minute," said Tweddle, stopping before
the window of a working-jeweller, who sat there in a narrow partition
facing the light, with a great horn lens protruding from one of his eyes
like a monstrous growth. "I left something there to be altered, and I
may as well see if it's done."

Apparently it was done, for he came out almost immediately, thrusting a
small cardboard box into his pocket as he rejoined his friend. "Now we'd
better take a cab up to Fenchurch Street," said Jauncy. "Can't keep
those girls standing about on the platform."

As they drove along, Tweddle observed, "I didn't understand that our
party was to include the fair sect, James?"

"Didn't you? I thought my letter said so plain enough. I'm an engaged
man now, you know, Tweddle. It wouldn't do if I went out to enjoy myself
and left my young lady at home!"

For Tweddle had suddenly thrust his stick up the trap and stopped the
cab. "I'm very sorry, James," he said, preparing to get out, "but--but
you'll have to excuse me being of your company."

"Do you mean that my Bella and her sister are not good enough company
for you?" demanded Jauncy. "You were a shop-assistant yourself, Tweddle,
only a short while ago!"

"I know that, James, I know; and it isn't that--far from it. I'm sure
they are two as respectable girls, and quite the ladies in every
respect, as I'd wish to meet. Only the fact is----"

The driver was listening through the trap, and before Leander would say
more he told him to drive on till further orders, after which he
continued--

"The fact is--we haven't met for so long that I dare say you're unaware
of it--but _I'm_ engaged, James, too!"

"Wish you joy with all my heart, Tweddle; but what then?"

"Why," exclaimed Leander, "my Matilda (that's _her_ name) is the dearest
girl, James; but she's most uncommon partickler, and I don't think she'd
like my going to a place of open-air entertainment where there's
dancing--and I'll get out here, please!"

"Gammon!" said Jauncy. "That isn't it, Tweddle; don't try and humbug me.
You were ready enough to go just now. You've a better reason than that!"